The depths glowed vermilion through drifting smoke, light pooling deep red in the crags like blood yet to be spilled. A narrow bridge of black obsidian spanned the gulf. Shattered statues of kneeling knights lined either side. Iron braziers burning with dark-red flames illuminated worn runes along the parapets, intertwined with carvings of hibiscus-like flowers weaving around the edges of blades.

Faelan had survived storms, a kraken, and the wizard’s trial; none of them had looked at him the way the knight on the bridge did.

The guardian stood motionless at the centre of the crossing. Faelan had nearly mistaken him for another statue. Then the wind swept through the crimson cloth hanging around the knight’s shoulders. A torn tabard of scarlet draped his blackened plate armour. Dark cherry lacquer webbed into runes across his greaves and gauntlets. An enormous sword balanced upon his broad shoulder. A shattered circlet etched into his breastplate. His face concealed by an ebony helm.

“Let the bearer of Elderbright step forth. The others shall remain.” His deep tone rumbled across the bridge.

Melisara tensed, then reached for her bow, but the old wizard’s hand stopped her. The mirth usually twinkling in Hiveth’s eyes sharpened into something more severe. He shook his head.

“This is no mere crossing. It is a weighing,” the old wizard said, his grey eyes settling upon Faelan. “Only the seeker of the emblem may face the Red Warden. The bridge will not allow us to cross until judgement is passed.”

Steeling himself, Faelan drew Elderbright. Nightbloom secured to his arm. He stepped forwards, onto the bridge. The wind breathed over him, seeping beneath his arming jack. Loose stones tumbled soundlessly into the abyss. The bridge was barely wide enough for two combatants. His every step echoed through the yawning breach. The guardian watched, still as stone.

Steeling himself, Faelan drew Elderbright. Nightbloom secured to his arm. He stepped forwards, onto the bridge. The wind breathed over him, seeping beneath his arming jack. Loose stones tumbled soundlessly into the abyss. The bridge was barely wide enough for two combatants. His every step echoed through the yawning breach. The guardian watched, still as stone.

Behind him, Melisara and Hiveth looked on. The wizard’s staff was grounded against the stone floor. Melisara clutched her bow, her eyes locked upon Faelan’s back. The young knight had faced thrashing monsters and storms that roared, but the guardian’s silence unsettled him more than either.

Some thresholds demanded a key. Others demanded a name.

“Your name, seeker,” the Red Warden rumbled.

“Faelan of Mazerholme,” he answered.

The guardian shifted, lowering his sword before him as though readying his stance. “Faelan of Mazerholme. I am Ser Caldris, keeper of the crossing. Only those worthy of the emblem may pass.”

“Ser Caldris of Arum.” Hiveth breathed. “His kingdom died centuries ago. His oath did not. Whatever stands before us now is no living knight.”

Melisara’s brows knitted as she fought the urge to step forth, yet she knew this was a challenge only for the seeker of the emblem.

“Elderbright has judged your truth. Nightbloom, your heart. But I will judge the purpose that drives you.” Ser Caldris’s voice echoed with dire intent.

“I seek the emblem to secure the King’s reward,” Faelan called out, but doubt flickered in his eyes.

The braziers flared, letting off smoke that carried the sharpness of scorched fruit and crushed flowers. The bridge beneath his feet trembled angrily, then stilled.

“You would place such power in a king’s hands for mere stone walls and a title?”

Faelan could feel the intense gaze of the Red Warden’s eyes upon him. He hesitated. Something stirred within his chest.

“I began this journey seeking fortune,” the young knight admitted. “I will not pretend otherwise. But I have witnessed too much to believe the emblem is merely a treasure. I mean to find it before the King does - and decide whether any man should possess it.”

“I began this journey seeking fortune,” the young knight admitted. “I will not pretend otherwise. But I have witnessed too much to believe the emblem is merely a treasure. I mean to find it before the King does—and decide whether any man should possess it.”

The Red Warden regarded him with a heavy silence before speaking once more, something graver in the steel of his voice.

“I once believed obedience was honour. I have guarded this crossing long enough to learn that an oath may preserve evil as faithfully as good.”

The Red Warden’s words struck deeper into Faelan’s chest than any blade. Hiveth’s lesson echoed in his head. ‘Loyalty without judgement becomes obedience.’

“Pass this bridge…” the Warden continued, “…and you may no longer pretend that you seek the emblem for the Crown. Speak the truth of your allegiance.”

Faelan’s amber gaze swept back towards his companions, then to the mountains beyond the guardian. His heart thundered in his chest. For a moment, Mazerholme rippled to memory. Its leaking roofs and empty mead halls. The final bottle glowing in the cellar. The reward the King offered could restore it all but at what true cost?

Finally, Faelan spoke.

“…My allegiance is no longer to the promise of fortune, but to preventing the emblem from falling into the wrong hands.”

The chasm beneath them fell silent as the runes carved onto the bridge hummed with a soft light.

Melisara’s eyes widened, recognising that Faelan’s choice stood to sacrifice the restoration of his home. Her hand tightened around her bow, but she remained rooted.

Hiveth nodded, a sombre look upon his face. “The hardest oath is the one freely chosen.”

“Will he have to fight?” Melisara asked.

“That depends on whether the Warden believes words can bleed,” the wizard answered.

The scorched knight raised his heavy sword, pointing it towards Faelan. “Then let us test the mettle behind your conviction.”

Faelan’s expression hardened as he gathered himself. Elderbright gleamed pale in his hand. Nightbloom burned with violet light upon his arm. Across the bridge, the Warden’s blade lowered with deadly intent. His crimson tabard snapping in the wind.

Faelan raised his shield.

The bridge held its breath.

With the abyss below his feet, his companions at his back, and the knight standing in his way, Faelan steadied his sword, prepared to prove the man he was meant to be.

Armour and swords clattered and clanged as the combatants charged forth, colliding at the centre of the bridge. Caldris’s greatsword plummeted and struck Nightbloom with such force that it sent Faelan reeling backwards. The young knight’s heart pounded, his adrenaline soaring. Sparks scattered into the chasm as the black bridge began to tremble beneath them, hungry for a victor.

Faelan answered with Elderbright, surging forth with several swift strikes. But the ancient Warden anticipated each one, knocking them aside. The towering revenant forced him towards the edge, putting all his weight behind the heavy greatsword and using its reach to control the narrow crossing.

Faelan gritted his teeth and attacked harder. He redoubled his efforts, trying to parry and strike back, but his impatience made him careless. A blow caught him across the shoulder and knocked Nightbloom wide, sending him sprawling towards the parapet.

“Is this all? Is this the strength of your conviction? Or is this merely desperation dressed in valour?” Caldris growled, readying his sword.

An angered roar tore from Faelan’s throat. He scrambled to his feet and charged once more. Caldris left his sword low, baiting him with an opening. Tempting him forwards. Blinded by fury, Faelan took it, discovering the trap too late. The Warden turned his momentum against him as he swept the younger knight’s legs from beneath him.

Faelan tumbled over the edge of the bridge. His hand caught the stone wall just in time. Nightbloom, snug against his arm, deflected another blow from Caldris’s descending blade.

Below him, the abyss glowed red.

Behind him, Melisara lunged forwards, Faelan’s name catching in her throat, but Hiveth barred her way.

The wizard’s jaw set like stone as he watched. “If we step onto the bridge, his judgement is forfeit.”

A pained grunt ripped from Faelan’s throat as he pulled himself up and recalled what the relics had taught him.

Elderbright was no simple sword; it revealed falsehood. Nightbloom was not merely a shield; it allowed him to hold what mattered.

Faelan’s eye caught the shift of Caldris’s left foot before each feint. He calmed himself and drew back his ire, no longer attempting to overpower the Red Warden.

Instead, he bided his time, catching his breath and observing the ancient knight’s movements. Within his grasp, Elderbright’s light gleamed, leaving a pale afterimage that traced Caldris’s true strike. He began to meet each strike with Nightbloom, redirecting rather than allowing the shield to absorb the mighty blows. As Faelan’s anger eased, the shield grew lighter on his arm, its violet runes answering his restraint.

For the first time, Ser Caldris was forced back upon his heels.

The Red Warden raised his sword, preparing a final crushing blow.

Faelan dug his feet in and lifted Nightbloom, catching the strike upon its silvered face. Its runes blazed, drinking in the impact. He held there, sensing the Red Warden’s next move and waiting for the revenant to fully commit his weight.

Faelan turned Nightbloom at the final moment, sending the greatsword wide. Elderbright flashed under Caldris’s guard, wrenching the weapon from his grasp.

The Warden’s sword struck the bridge with a heavy clang..

Faelan eyed Ser Caldris, Elderbright poised beneath his breastplate, a breath from where his heart had once lain.

“Finish it,” the Red Warden hissed.

The young knight paused, drawing breath. Then he spoke. “I fought to prove the conviction behind my blade… not my eagerness to bury it in another knight. The duel is done.”

The glow behind Ser Caldris’s visor softened. For a moment, he was no longer a revenant, but a weary knight who had reached the end of his long watch.

The rumbling of the bridge stilled. Its runes ignited red around them.

The bridge had named its victor.

Caldris lowered his head, then slowly retrieved his weapon, though he no longer brandished it. “Faelan of Mazerholme. You have been found worthy. You may pass.”

The flames in the braziers dimmed, and the air, once thick, began to lighten.

Melisara and Hiveth smiled and hurried to join Faelan as the towering revenant stepped aside. His endless vigil finally at an end.

As they pressed on, Ser Caldris called out, “Steel will not win what waits below. When the fire comes, remember why you raised the shield…”